


The Revenant

by crypt_mirror



Series: Come Together Over Me [1]
Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, DC Cinematic Universe, Justice League (2017), Man of Steel (2013)
Genre: Angst, Canon Death, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, OT3 eventually, Starts with pre OT3, Whales, aquasupes back story, canon resurrection, description of violence and death, my version of a fix it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 14:07:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13296489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crypt_mirror/pseuds/crypt_mirror
Summary: A story about Arthur, Clark and Bruce, where bringing back the dead is definitely a far more complicated affair for the living.





	1. Then

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Kansas.” He gave a crooked smile.
> 
> “Kansas. With the land and the corn.”
> 
> “Yup. That Kansas.”
> 
> “You’re far away from home, _Kansas_. Never been to Kansas, but I’m sure people there aren’t resistant to hypothermia or fire, or are incredibly strong.” Arthur gave him a meaningful look. He was usually more suspicious, but something about this man’s manner; his quiet confidence and how he helped those people, drew him. Plus, it didn’t hurt that he wasn’t bad to look at.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to writ something for AquaSuperBat that was Justice League related. Then it sort of evolved into a fix it fic. And the Jason Momoa said something about how Aquaman was in MOS [HERE](//www.gizmondo.com.au/2017/11/jason-momoa-confirms-intriguing-link-between-aquamans-justice-league-backstory-and-man-of-steel)
> 
> And so, I married the movie canon and Jason's canon cause why not?

_THEN_

 

 

The Inuit village on the remote coast of the Bering Sea was a place only handful people in the world knew existed. Usually forgotten except for the rare crabbing ships that would be forced to dock there during storms.One particularly long and bitter winter a man came from the frigid waters and brought  the sea’s bounty with him to feed the village. He was built, big and strong with powerful shoulders and legs. His skin marked with tattoos of shark teeth and strange symbols. And his eyes, unsettled everyone, for they changed from sea green to opaque white. They quietly thanked him and did not make a big fuss about it. This was a place that still believed in the old gods and spirits. Instinctively, the people figured to give the strange god a wide berth and to let him be till he went back to the ocean. Even when he drank dry the only bar for the next 50 miles, nobody bothered him. And that’s just how Arthur Curry wanted it.

 

On this particular day, the pair of humpback whales that have been his companions had wandered off several hundred miles away from that remote coast. They were part of a bigger pod of humpbacks that had 20 whales, yet somehow, they always seem to find him when they were in this part of the world and had taken to following him. Sometimes it was tempting to think of them as pets. He never had a pet. He asked his Dad once for a dog and his dad told him they moved around too much to be dragging a pet around, a pet would just slow them down. Better to be able to just get up and leave at a moment’s notice. Besides, his Dad had said the two of them was enough, they didn’t need “a stinking dog.”

 

Arthur thought wryly, he might think the whales follow him but in reality, he knew that these majestic beings had chosen him to be a part of their own pod … _Child …_ the mother called him… _Brother_ … the calf said. He couldn’t really remember the last time anyone or anything wanted him. His Dad, in every drunken rant always managed to include how Arthur’s mother was too good for them that’s why she left, before he would eventually pass out into one of his alcoholic comas. Later, Arthur would realize that he said that more because of pain then anger. Maybe the whales found some sort of strange kinship with him for they were all just wanderers. The large mammals were driven by biology and instinct. He was just driven by the urge not to stay too long in one place, to do what he could, take what he needed and just move on. He left nothing behind but empty bottles of liquor and people who were either in awe of him or terrified of him.

 

After a while he had taken to naming the whales; Thing One and Thing Two. Thing One was the mom and Thing Two was the calf. Mischievous and curious creatures of Dr. Seuss. A story told by his lighthouse keeper father to him; when he was in a mood to remember he had a son, when he wasn’t drunk or when he would stop staring out the window, mind lost out there in the waves somewhere.

 

This time they had gone away, far away, as they were prone to do when he stayed in land too long. Suddenly a group of seagulls circled above him, their flight pattern and squawks alerted him that something was very wrong.

 

A nearby radio outside one of a fishing shacks was broadcasting; “Mayday, Mayday! This is the _Bright Aurora_ calling all ships in the vicinity. We’ve had an explosion and the platform is on fire. Numerous survivors are in the water!”

 

The Bright Aurora was an offshore rig only a few nautical miles away from where Arthur was. He closed his eyes and used his gifts to see what the seagulls saw. A group of rebel Atlanteans had placed explosives on an oil platform on the Bering Sea. Fire was now eating through the entire structure.

 

He knew nearby ships would reach the site first to assist with the evacuation. Quickly he jumped off a cliff and sent a message through the water. _Let the ships do what they can. Help those who can’t help themselves. And be careful!_ He knew Thing One and Two were close to the disaster.

It wasn’t an accident that the oil rig explosion happened there. The Atlantean rebel faction knew he was nearby, the hated half breed son of their Queen Atlanna. The bad part was that no one in the High Council cared about rebel factions blowing up another oil rig. Though they did not publicly condone it, the mostly unspoken sentiment was: it was good riddance for the surface dwellers and their arrogant consumption of the earth’s resources.

 

He sped through the water faster than any torpedo, he needed to track the rebels before they disappeared again. The waters were frigid, easily several degrees below zero at this time of the year. Arthur could see the drilling platform engulfed in flames, quickly he circled the perimeter looking for any signs of those responsible. It was not that simple, he had to fish out several survivors out of the water tossing them into hastily deployed lifeboats where a passing rescue ship could see them. Most of them were weak, their sensorium clouded by hypothermia and injury. They didn’t even notice that they were just rescued out of the freezing sea by a shirtless man that swam very fast. After he surfaced again, he heard a loud roar. It was the oil derrick. The gigantic structure was toppling into the ocean. Another explosion tore through whatever remained of the oil platform. He dove deeper, intent on tracking the rebels, when he heard an urgent message sent through the water by Thing One and Two.

 

A man on fire, came the message. He saved all those people in that oil rig. The oil rig burned and burned. but he didn’t leave, they said. He fell into the water. A man on fire, _like the bad things from under._ The bad things from under, a chill went through Arthur’s spine, he was familiar with Atlantis’ version of urban legends. Quickly he turned to their direction. _The surface dwellers called him an angel…What is an angel, Orin_ …... Orin, the name given to him by his long dead mother.

 

A fiery angel. _What is an angel, Orin?_

 

The water carried the cacophony of sounds and the whales’ vocalizations. Arthur despite his gifts struggled to understand. He knew what they were saying as certain as his own breathing. The language of water with the ebb and flow of its currents, carried even a more baffling story. Nothing made sense. A man helping the workers so they could escape into the chopper. A man held up the collapsing derrick on his shoulders so the workers can escape. He was consumed by the flames as he fell into the water crushed by tonnage of the collapsing derrick.

 

Yet the whales tell him…. _he did not burn._

 

The whales had found him, like oversized, curious puppies they swam around him. Arthur sent a warning through the waves as he shot through the water, afraid that the curious mammals will find harm. Once, Thing Two swum too close along the Sydney Harbor ferry route, she still bore the scar of the propeller of the ferry boat she collided with.

 

Scattered around the surrounding sea was the flotsam and jetsam of more fossil fuel, and pieces of the submerged derrick as other burning wreckage floated around him like fiery spectral islands. The Coast Guard would soon come with their investigation. A quick survey of the area showed no other survivors or any Atlanteans.

 

Several miles away from the main wreckage in the deep, he finally found the whales nudging the body of the man. He was fully expecting a lifeless body covered with burns, despite what the whales had told him, but he wasn’t. There was no sign of any injury on him. The only sign that he went through something horrific was the lack of clothes. He was naked save for the tattered fabric that used to be his pants. The whales, Arthur noted, were more intrigued than usual.

 

 _Not dead…  the in- between…_ They tell him.

 

His heart beat slow and steady. The man seemed to be asleep, his face tranquil, not frozen in the death mask of those who die of drowning. Maybe he was dreaming, Arthur thought. Dreaming or not he was not moving, not waking. And the strangest thing was the body was warm. Arthur could feel the unrelenting currents gathering again, in a matter of minutes the wind will bring more 30 foot waves —they were very far from land. Arthur could care less what kind of human he was, he needed to get out of the water especially if there was a chance he was still alive. The winter waters around here were nothing to be messed with for it was merciless.

 

                                                                 --------------

 

When he fell into the water Clark didn’t try to fight it. He let the forward momentum of the crashing derrick just push him into the frigid sea. The dark cold tingled against his skin. He floated on his back, letting the current pull his body. The dark depths cradled him. Soon the water’s rhythmic movements were accompanied by the soothing whale songs reverberating under the waves, it invited dreams and memories. The first time his enhanced vision kicked in. The first time he could suddenly hear everything. The first time his Mom taught him how to narrow his senses by thinking he was in an island, to focus on her voice.

 

Several weeks ago, he had taken a job at a fishing boat that sailed off one of the Aleutian ports. He knew they were heading North and that was all that mattered, for he was drawn to go North. He wasn’t sure why he only knew it had something to do with who he was. An alien sent to Earth when he was a baby. Growing up he was reminded how different he was. Every day, he felt stronger, faster. Every day he was taught to hide what he could do, hide who he was. His Father sacrificed himself, because of that belief.

 

But for now, he could lay here in the cold and the dark forever, down here the waves muffled the world out there and he didn’t have to work as hard to not see everything, to not hear everything, to not feel everything. He could shut himself off without even trying. He could rest.

 

                                                            -------------

 

Easily, Arthur lifted him up, out of the water onto a deserted beach. By this time hypothermia, should have long set in, but his temperature was still warm. For the first time, he could closely look at the man he rescued. There was no way he was a regular human. Maybe there was some truth to what the whales told him. Perhaps like him he wasn’t just of this world. They called him an angel. It was easy why they thought he could be, he helped them, oblivious to the fire and the collapsing chaos around him.

 

“Thanks, you can put me down now.” 

 

The eyes of the face he was staring at had opened. They were clear, sea blue eyes with a speck of brown on the left. An entire sea with a small island, right there looking up at him, Arthur thought before he let go without any warning. The man landed gracefully on his feet. He looked down on himself before looking at Arthur again, brows knitted in concern. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

 

Arthur inhaled then exhaled slowly. “Who … Where did you come from?”

 

“Kansas.” He gave a crooked smile.

 

“Kansas. With the land and the corn.”

 

“Yup. That Kansas.”

 

“You’re far away from home, _Kansas_. Never been to Kansas, but I’m sure people there aren’t resistant to hypothermia or fire, or are incredibly strong.” Arthur gave him a meaningful look. He was usually more suspicious, but something about this man’s manner; his quiet confidence and how he helped those people, drew him. Plus, it didn’t hurt that he wasn’t bad to look at.

 

“Pot, kettle black. You’re strong and you swim really fast. And I don’t think tattoos are considered winter wear.” Kansas was looking intently at him, more like looking through him.

 

“I guess we both have our stories. I’m Arthur Curry.” He offered a hand. Another thing that he didn’t usually do.

 

"I reckon so,” He shook his hand. “Clark Kent.”

 

They clambered up the rocky cliff, above the beachline and espied a lone weathered log cabin. Clark scanned the cabin and saw it was empty. Fortunately, clothes hung on a clothesline and a pair of muddy boots rested on the stoop. It was a good thing Clark thought, he’d rather not walk around naked, even though it was with another almost naked guy.

 

“Alright, I feel bad,” he said as he put the shirt and sweater over him. He grimaced, the clothes smelled of fish and it still had some fish scales stuck to it. Well, beggars can’t be choosers.

 

“It’s ok. People in these parts leave stuff in cabins like these in case people need it. The harsh weather around here makes people hospitable like that,” Arthur said.

 

“I’ll come back here and replace it,” he grabbed the pants and looked at Arthur, “Ummm… can you turn around.”

 

Arthur smirked, “What’s the difference? You’re practically naked right now. I saw everything.”

 

Clark ducked his head, he could feel the heat rise up his cheeks and knew he was practically beet red at that very moment. “Please….”

 

Arthur was relentless, “You should be proud,” he gave him a wink.

 

If it was possible, Clark felt hotter, so hot he could burn through his clothes.

 

“Alright fine, sorry. Here, you could stare at my ass,” Arthur turned, still smirking, he couldn’t help it, seeing Kansas blush was incredibly hot.

 

“Here,” Clark said when he was done. He threw another equally smelly, chunky sweater at Arthur.

 

Arthur made a face before he put it on, “So where are you going now?”

 

“I can’t go back to the fishing ship I worked at. Too many questions. I need to go North. Find a job, something.”

 

“North? Why North?”

 

A guarded look came over Clark’s face. Arthur noticed his hand come up to his chest where a pendant hid behind his clothes. Since he wasn’t a stranger to earth shaking secrets himself, he didn’t push it. “Ok, in the next town over there’s a bar called ‘Bearcat.’ It’s rough but they’re always looking for help, you could start there. A lot of truckers that pass through here end up there, so …you know,” Arthur shrugged a shoulder.

 

“Thanks. I would really appreciate it if you don’t mention this to anybody.”

 

There was a pleading look in his eyes. He looked truly worried. Arthur was disappointed that he didn’t trust him to do that. Could he blame him, really? Kansas probably spent his entire life hiding who he is. Moving from one place to another…

 

“Of course. I promise.”

 

He could see him relax a little, Arthur felt very aware of the fact that, that actually made him feel good too. No, it felt great.

 

“Will I see you again, Arthur?”

 

Arthur wasn’t really planning on sticking around. This part of the country had a little too many people for his taste. “Don’t worry, I’ll find you.” Plans change.

 

                                                            --------------

 

One week of back breaking work. Back breaking to most people anyway. Bussing tables, cleaning up floors, washing dishes, and anything else, his boss Weaver wanted. It was just his luck, Weaver fired a busboy and the other kitchen guy had quit. Clark was essentially doing the work of two sometimes three people. He kept his head down and didn’t complain, Weaver wasn’t entirely merciless aside from a paycheck, Weaver gave him the small room in the back to stay in. Arthur wasn’t lying when he said the Bearcat was busy. A regular traffic of truckers, miners and fishermen passed through. It was one of those middle of nowhere places where you can have a decent cheeseburger at the bar then freeze to death in the parking lot because you were passed out drunk with your truck window open.

 

In between drunken jokes and raucous laughter, the customers talked about places they’ve been and places they were heading to, Clark filed them away in his head hoping for a clue to whatever it was that drew him here. He wasn’t keen on staying here too long, he planned to give it two weeks before moving on. He sighed deeply, he was on his knees scraping dried vomit off the floor. Weaver had pointedly told him that since there hardly any costumers he might as keep himself busy, not that he _wasn’t_ busy. At least, it wasn’t fresh puke like earlier. It wouldn’t be so bad if he could use his abilities, but he didn’t want to risk it, since stories of the miraculous rescue at the Bright Aurora was circulating like wild fire in the area. He idly wondered if Arthur would come by, he still wasn’t sure what to think of him, but he wouldn’t mind seeing him again just to get some sort of handle on the guy.

 

Thick, black biker boots stopped right by his hand, “Heyyy, Kansas,” a deep voice greeted him.

 

Clark gave himself a moment before looking up, he felt his cheeks go warm. Arthur’s voice triggered an image of his suggestive smirk from the last time they saw each other. The sheer bulk of Arthur with the shaggy hair, leather pants and sheepskin jacket, was haloed by the sunlight from the window behind him. He squinted at him which he really didn’t need to do, it was one of those almost involuntary human responses he had to learn, drilled into him by his dad, so he won’t look too weird. The first one was blinking, after Clark almost got into a fight at first grade because he had a “creepy ass stare.”

 

“Look at you with the apron and everything, Jesus fucking Christ,” Arthur said, he came in on a lark to check if the kid was really serious about working in this rat- hole. He really was, and cleaning vomit too!

 

“Hey, outside later,” Clark said quietly as he stood up, his eyes furtively checking on his boss, Weaver. Sure enough, he was already glaring at Clark behind the bar. Weaver didn’t like his bus boys standing around talking, only the bartender got to do that, he would yell. Arthur caught on and tilted his beer at him and mouthed— “later.”

 

Later wasn’t till 1am, when Clark finished his shift. They were on the deck of one of the larger winter fishing boats docked on the deserted pier; a six pack and two bottles of cheap whisky in between them. “A friend lets me use it when I’m in these parts,” was Arthur’s blithe answer when Clark asked. At first, Arthur didn’t really want to come to The Bearcat, he promised himself he’d forget about the hot-not-so-human stranger, one meeting was enough. Kansas… Clark… was complicated, he didn’t do too well with complicated things. But he ignored his own advice and went anyway. At first, he didn’t see him when he scoped out the bar, he was about to leave after he got his beer, when he noticed someone down on his knees cleaning the floor, behind a table. And for fuck’s sake, there he was, before he could stop himself he had walked up to him. The next thing he knew those gorgeous eyes were looking up at him, again.

 

It was a nice night, the sky was clear with the stars and the full moon, even with the bone chilling temperatures of November. Further away in the water, One and Two were feeding and playing. They were still very curious about Clark, at one point they came close to the pier and Arthur had to practically shoo them away.

 

“So, they really follow you around?” Clark nodded towards the horizon.

 

“Yeah, I guess they like me. Well, actually for some reason they’ve adopted me.”

 

They had traded stories of their unique childhood and the parents they’ve lost. Things they haven’t really spoken about to anyone for a long time. They’ve been loners for most of their lives, so each one was still wary of the other yet it was impossible to deny that finding someone who could understand was enough to let some of their guard down.

 

Even with the explanation how he came to the planet, Arthur still had a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that Clark was an alien. “Why is it hard to believe? Clark grinned, tickled by the thought that he is actually kidding with someone other than his Mom about this. “Because I’m not gray or green or ten feet tall with gigantic brain eating tentacles. I have a hard time believing you’re from Atlantis, no fins.” That earned another chuckle from Arthur.

 

They were silent for a while, each wondering about the other. Arthur finished one bottle of whisky while Clark steadily worked on his second beer.

 

“Tell me, when I found you in the water, were you hurt or something? Cause you were really out of it, you weren’t trying to kill yourself, right?”  Arthur asked the question that was bugging him.

 

“It’s hard to hurt me.” Clark wasn’t quite ready to tell him, that as far as he knew nothing can hurt him, _yet_. “And I can do things …that nobody else can do. I fell asleep and I was dreaming. My senses are a little different and sometimes it’s hard to just shut off things. The song of the whales, the waves, being deep in the ocean like that… It gave me a peace I haven’t had for a long time…”

 

“Well, I’m sorry I interrupted your nap.”

 

“Honestly? I’m glad you did. I’m glad to have met you.”

 

“Me too,” Arthur said easily, he couldn’t believe that even if he just knew Kansas for a couple of days, he had already broken down large chunks of his internal defenses. “How long are you going to stay around at The Bearcat?” Suddenly, in his complex life, this was something he needed to know.

 

“I’m giving myself two weeks, but I’m not really sure. What about you? Are you just going hang around, fishing strangers out of the water?”

 

“Nah, I’m not like you. They called you an angel you know that?” Arthur teased, although he himself was very aware of the wild stories about the “Aqua Man” up and down several remote fishing villages in the Aleutians all the way up to the Barents Sea.

 

Clark winced inwardly. The idea of being thought of as a divine being always embarrassed him. People he’s helped always swung between extremes, they either thought of him as a freak or some sort of angel or saint, depending on where he was. With the idea of divinity always came the idea of infallibility, which is even worse, “You help people, too.”

 

Arthur took a big swallow of whisky that made even Clark cringe, “No, I don’t,” he said gruffly.

 

“You helped me,” Clark said, with a quiet intensity that surprised even him.

 

Arthur smiled, self-conscious at the heat that suddenly bloomed in his chest and it wasn’t from the whisky, “You know, you don’t have to sleep at the back of that hovel, you could stay here.”

 

“What about your friend?”

 

“Don’t worry, he’ll be cool about it.”

 

They talked until Clark fell asleep on his shoulder, like it was something he did all the time. Clark told him that he didn’t need to but it had become a habit that he enjoyed. Arthur moved him to the sleeping quarters below deck because he felt like it. He found it funny that once again he had to carry Kansas. And because, there really was nothing else to do, he fell asleep next to him.

 

Clark woke up later than usual the next day. He was surprised at how relaxed he felt. Sleeping next to Arthur, once again, felt like being under the waves cradled by its rhythm and sounds. He blushed at how intimate the whole thing was, when he thought how they laid there next to each other. Clark decided, he wouldn’t mind doing this again.

 

                                                 ---------------

 

They had agreed to meet at the boat three days from then. Arthur wanted it sooner, but he had to swim several thousand miles to the far-off fishing villages that needed his help. He sat on the boat, whisky on one hand, watching the sun set, waiting for Clark. He saw a caravan of military vehicles slowly making their way on the icy road, he briefly wondered what the hell was up.

 

 A group of roughnecks passed by on his side of the pier, talking excitedly. “What the fuck happened to Ludlow’s rig, shit!” Arthur sat up and paid attention as the other one spoke.

 

 “A freak storm, maybe, who knows?”

 

“Yeah, right… a freak storm, right outside The Bearcat and nowhere else…fuck …I’ve seen weird shit, man, but this one…”

 

“He got what he deserved, that douche bag feeling up that girl and picking a fight with that busboy…”

 

Arthur threw the bottle on the floor and ran. He knew he must’ve have looked wild when he took Weaver by his neck like he was nothing, but he didn’t care, “Where the hell is, Joe?” ‘Joe’ was Clark’s alias at the bar.

 

“Shit! I fired him…ok…Fuck!” Weaver’s eyes darted in fear. Arthur dropped him on the floor. The customers barely gave them a glance, it was par for the course here, men settled their own shit.

 

                                                            ----------------

 

With the help of some seagulls, Arthur tracked down Clark, in the middle of a deserted highway, duffel bag slung on his shoulder.

 

“Kansas!”

 

He looked surprised then worried, “I’m sorry, I had to leave, I wanted to tell you but …I couldn’t …” he hung his head.

 

They stood there. Arthur felt something implode within him, he grasped Clark’s face in his hands and slowly lifted it up, Clark was breathing fast, lips slightly apart, eyes bluer than ever, but he didn’t move away, his bag fell to the ground. The implosion within Arthur became heat that coursed through him as he surged forward and kissed Clark. To Arthur’s relief, Clark kissed him back. They kissed slow then fierce, as if everything that couldn’t be said can only be said in a single kiss.

 

Slowly, they let go, hands kneading each other’s face and neck, breaths rapid, “I couldn’t say goodbye because if I did… I won’t be able to leave…I don’t want to leave you. But, Arthur, they found something up in Ellesmere Island, they called it anomalous… I think it’s connected to me…I have to know… but now you’re here … tell me what to do?”

 

_Fucking hell! Why him? Why now?_

“Oh, Kansas, you idiot! Fuck! We’re both idiots!” And they kissed again, this time slower, both wanted to stretch out this time in between, to the bare milliseconds of it, because they knew they had no choice. The momentum of their lives will start over again once this moment ends.

 

Finally, they let go, Clark’s cheeks were wet while Arthur could barely speak, “I’m sorry,” Clark whispered _._

 

“Don’t be. You need to go. You do what you need to do, Kansas. It’s the only way, or else you’ll never be whole and I don’t want you to turn into me.”

 

Clark frowned, he felt wounded…how can Arthur just say that? “No, maybe there’s another way–”

 

“It’s the best thing right now for you, for me, especially for you.” Arthur sighed deeply, thinking about the mess in Atlantis right now, how the rebels were finding ways to hurt people he cared about. Clark may be strong, but he couldn’t do that to him, he can’t be dragged into this, not when he still has his own life to figure out. “Look, you can probably hear a truck is coming up around that curve, promise me you’ll get on it.” He picked up his duffel bag on the ground and handed it to him, for a moment it seemed that Clark wouldn't take it. His eyes were still dull and wet, and Arthur wished at that moment he could just be a little selfish for both of them.

 

Slowly, Clark took the bag, Arthur felt something break inside him, "Will i ever see you again?" Clark sighed deeply before he slung his bag over his shoulder.

 

“If you need me, call out to the sea and I will come. Use my true name...Orin, say it.”

 

“Orin.”

 

                                                            ----------------

 

In that month, the Bering Sea recorded one of the fiercest storms in the last 50 years. In the following months, the stories of the Aqua Man became few and far in between. Within the week Superman died, there was a winter storm surge that caused coastal flooding along the east coast which included the bay cities of Metropolis and Gotham.

 

In a remote fishing village by the Barents Sea, the winter was harsh and food was scarce, yet hope came with the King-tide when a stranger from the sea brought fish to the starving village.

 

The next day, another stranger came seeking to build an alliance.

 

Tbc

 

 Author’s Notes:

So this is my little back story for AquaSupes — which I felt is super important in building an OT3 for this universe.

Ahhh .... writing these three makes me happy so I hope you guys are happy too:)

It's a little bit _Before Midnight_ kinda but that's where the muse went

Thank you, Leo di Caprio's movie for the title.

 I know right! No porn. Don’t worry people, there is an AquaSupes PWP in development, that will expand their own story away from this continuity.

I hope you guys like it, it's 4 am omg. I’m cross eyed from editing. If there are errors be kind and let me know. Please kudos and comments would be appreciated. Thank you.

 

 

 


	2. Then And Now

The Revenant

 

THEN AND NOW

I.

As far as bad ideas went, this was the worse. To be fair they barely had twenty seconds to make a plan while a rampaging alien monster was trying to incinerate them and the entire eastern seaboard.

“The Kryptonite spear will kill you before you can kill it.”

“Bruce, you make it sound like I’m a little kid running around with a big knife.”

“It’s a _Kryptonite_ spear. I almost killed you with it.”

“You saved my Mom, that’s the only thing that matters.”

Later, Bruce knew he should have said something. _Don’t do this… Sorry I was so wrong_ … It made him nauseous just thinking about it. Lost the last chance to make it right. But didn’t he stop caring a long time ago? Twenty years dealing with the dregs of Gotham it all boiled down to just getting the job done. The mission. Focus. But now, it was all he could think about. All the should’ve haves and could haves.

“That’s not the point. There’s another way- _She_ can help you…” Batman tilted his head towards Diana, clearly holding her own against the massive monster.

“She is helping us. But this creature, came from my planet. Lois almost died. Nobody else is getting hurt tonight. I have to do this.”

And before Bruce could do anything, Clark picked up the spear, Bruce could hear the low grunt of pain as soon as he touched it. Gathering speed, Clark launched himself towards the monster. Diana swung hard and cut off its right hand. It roared in anger, and blasted her with raging heat from its eyes. She deflected the blasts with her shield, then lassoed the creature to hold it down. Bruce fired the last Kryptonite grenade while Clark was still at a safe distance to weaken it. Diana, with her warrior’s instincts sensed what Clark was planning to do. With renewed strength, she pulled and held down the struggling creature with her lasso. It was barely a plan, but it was the best chance they had.

Clark took the chance and drove the spear into its chest. The window of opportunity was over too quickly, the creature recovered even with Diana holding it down and even with the Kryptonite gas grenade that Bruce shot to its face. It became angrier, it became stronger. It was a hellish sight. The creature discharged fire and energy from its body, everything was burning around them, the concrete and asphalt buckling under the intense heat. The air thick with smoke and toxic fumes. It roared as Clark impaled the spear deeper into its chest. It was deafening.

The Kryptonian monster was trying to shake Clark off. Its arm had struggled free from Diana’s lasso, and Clark was right there, not giving up.

 _This is my fault… I was blind to Luthor’s schemes… It’s not too late_ …

“Let it go, Clark!” Bruce yelled out, trying to stop the worst possible outcome

While Bruce watched Clark, in that dissonance of time and memory a part of him was still inside the ruins of Wayne Manor holding the same spear over Clark, trying to drive that spear into him, to make him bleed… to kill him.

“Damn it! Clark! Let it go!”

In the din of all the noise, explosions, fire and heat. Clark could hear Bruce. It was tempting to just let go. The pain was unbearable. A long time ago he thought he would die when his insides were being crushed and the air squeezed out of him when he first met his own people inside the Kryptonian ship. This was a thousand times worse. His felt his skin burn while his insides were being slowly roasted by searing pain. The pain spasmed throughout his entire body making him break into cold sweat even in the intense heat.

The spear had impacted the creature’s chest right where its heart could be if it had a heart. Clark tried scanning him as he flew, but his vision couldn’t see pass through the creature’s thick exoskeleton. This had to work, he thought desperately as he pushed with all his might. The pain, the heat was overwhelming. The creature roared, energy, fire, lightning arcing off him. As hot as the sun… one more push … should do it. Clark felt more muscle and bone giving way yet it wasn’t enough for not only was the creature getting stronger— it was transforming, growing bony spikes everywhere. And when it roared it was like a hundred volcanos erupting inside his head.

He was getting weaker by the minute it was taking everything he had to make sure that the creature would die, but the creature was still too strong. What else could he do?

Maybe…

Clark had a flash of something going terribly wrong in the middle of the fiery chaos. He had the urge to look down on himself, the creature had punched through his chest with a bone spike that grew from its severed hand. That’s funny I should be dead by now, a part of him thought, the part that had detached itself from the entire nightmare and still processed everything. _This is how it is to be alive and dead at the same time._ It hurt with a different kind of pain, his chest felt very, very heavy, he could feel his flesh tearing, coming apart, he could smell his own blood. So much blood.

He didn’t have enough time…he had to make time…nobody else can get hurt … so many had died because of Krypton…. because of him.

He must fight pain and fire.

Bruce heard Clark scream. Anger, despair, pain. He ran out of the slab of concrete he was hiding under when the heat became too intense. The creature had driven its bone spike, the size of a man, deep into Clark‘s chest. Bruce watched helplessly; even impaled, Clark held on using the creature’s own hand to gain leverage to push the spear deeper into the creature’s chest and through its dense muscles and bones until it was driven through its body, the spear’s tip coming out of the creature’s back. The creature finally shuddered and fell to the ground, Clark was a rag doll clutched in its hand, his chest gaping open…

 _You were never a god. You were never a man._ Words he said in rage at Clark minutes ago now taunted him, an echo in his head like nails on a chalkboard.

Bruce’s nightmares never ended because he always had new ones.

II.

“This is hubris. Just because you have all of this.” Diana had gestured at the hangar and all the tech it contained. “You think, you can control this force that is older than life itself. You think, with your computers and your machines you have understood it. You are all children. No! Not even that! You, are barely a speck of dust in its entire existence.”

They had talked about this course of action. Bruce wanted to bring Clark back, because they needed Superman. They will use Victor’s Mother Box— the change engine— to reanimate his incorruptible yet dormant Kryptonian cells, but the energy discharge had to happen within the Kryptonian growth chamber.

When you bring back dead things, you’ll never know what will come back, Diana had argued. The discussion that ended with Diana almost breaking all of Bruce’s bones. But in the end despite all the reservations they all decided to go ahead with THE PLAN- 

The door unsealed the Kryptonian chamber, Bruce was only here once after the catastrophe with Luthor. Clark had called it a Genesis chamber. For all intents and purposes, it was really a massive Womb, in its full capacity capable of producing an entire race. After Luthor perverted it, the chamber was a chaos of metallic alien tentacles and wrecked research equipment. The strong odor of burnt metal combined with the miasma of charred flesh and blood. Today it was quiet, alien, cold. The silent robot sentries floated above the pool of fluid. The alien tentacles of the chamber lay dormant deep in its depths. The entire space was entirely devoid of any odor with the outside air carefully filtered by STAR labs’ systems before it was pumped through.

_Ever heard of Superman. He died fighting beside me._

_Exactly my point._ _Arthur had argued back at him._

_————-_

Arthur remembered how Clark was years ago and thought it wouldn’t be wrong to think Clark didn’t want to come back. The man has found the peace he wanted. The same peace he found beneath the ocean waves when he crashed into the water before he was The Superman, when the ocean welcomed him in its cool and calm depths.

He didn’t want to wade into that Kryptonian version of primordial soup and give in to whatever hellish force the Mother box will unleash on Clark’s body.

Barry's words in the hangar came back unbidden in his head: Pet Sematary. Arthur hated Barry for it.

We lose this battle. We lose the war. So, what? We move on. We could still fight. For a moment, it was hard for Arthur to figure out which battle would he be fighting then— the battle for Earth? The battle for Clark’s soul?

Arthur opened the casket. He had prepared himself for what he would find. And there was Clark… incorruptible, as Bruce had said. _Incorruptible_. For a moment Arthur stared at Clark –– transfixed, memories of Clark floating in the water came, as he lay there inside the wooden box. Different time, different place but still the same face, unspoiled and handsome– a sudden thought comes to Arthur that perhaps in his own way Clark is breathing, and in his own way he was just sleeping and dreaming, just like that time when the whales found him. The whale songs, the silence of the ocean depths, its waves had lulled him to let go, to rest. And perhaps to dream of a life away from the chaos and hurt surrounded only by those who did not question his very existence.

_We shouldn’t do this._

_—————_

Bruce saw the hesitation, and for the first time since he met him, he saw the fierce Atlantean’s face soften. Arthur had agreed with Diana. What if there was another reason why he didn’t want to bring Clark back? Bruce was always, first and foremost a student of human behavior, being Batman and Bruce Wayne demanded that of him. He understood why people did things even if in Alfred’s words: “Master Bruce, you horribly fail at the actual execution of empathy.” When he saw the how Arthur looked at Clark at that moment, something flared inside his chest– mean and bitter, it was there, it was undeniable…jealousy. And as with all things having to do with Clark these days, it pried the very edges of his soul.

Sometimes when he lay in bed at night, Bruce tried to imagine what it’s like to be dead. Dead, like how Clark was dead. It was how his mind worked and he let it be. He knew Clark was incorruptible, was he awake somehow? Aware but unable to move. Wanting to move, wanting to get out from under the cold earth. Could he hear things? The worms, the bugs that crawled in the soil outside of the confines of his narrow box. Did he hear the them as they crawled and skittered, scrabbled against the casket? He tried to imagine these things yet he knew the incredulity of such thoughts, that he could drive himself madder by doing this. It was for him, a strange sort of penance. In the end, he felt guilty because it really didn’t do much but feed festering wounds maybe because he has been so used to thinking about dreadful, unimaginable things.

 _Alfred, the team needs Clar_ k…. He had had argued with Alfred out loud, while the truth within him screamed …. _I need Clark…._

“Arthur, please.” Diana’s voice, concerned yet firm broke through the silence within the Womb and the Stygian depths of Bruce’s thoughts.

Arthur’s head jerked as a sigh escaped his lips. Carefully, gently he lifted Clark’s body out of the coffin and carried him into the pool.

A part of Bruce wanted to run down the pool and go against everything that was planned. _You’re right! Take him out! This is a mistake!_

It would kill Bruce if Clark would become the soulless thing that he sacrificed his life to so he could save the rest of them.

 

Clark’s body floated on the thick surface. Victor had said that the body needed to be fully submerged when the birthing matrix is woken up. Victor had solemnly announced after a systems analysis that Luthor had fried chamber’s circuits. Arthur could hear them in the background figuring out how to wake the Womb. They calculated the energy generated from Barry’s speed would activate the Mother Box. It needed to be charged at the same time it touched the pool. Barry was in position waiting for Victor’s countdown. It will take five seconds.

Arthur couldn’t bear the thought of sinking Clark into this alien pool. The same liquid that Luthor had used to create a monster.

“Guys is this still what we want?” Barry had asked, perhaps sensing the thick air of doubt within the group.

He should stop this. Now. Bruce thought.

_Five seconds…_

But, they needed him.

 _I’m sorry._ Arthur slowly pushed his body, sinking it into the pool. His fingers lingered on his chest. It all felt unreal, it didn’t feel like his fingers in the same way this couldn’t be Clark. Yet all he could do was watch as the viscous fluid gradually enveloped his body.

He moved away and stood at the platform as Vic started the countdown for Barry. Five seconds. In five seconds, they would know if the chance they all took would be worth it. In five seconds, Arthur would know if he should have just stood his ground and not allowed this to happen.

In five seconds, Bruce thought, as the spark of hope within him was being smothered by doubt, guilt and yes, fear… he would know if he had once again, done Clark wrong.

 _Maybe faith in hope is not enough_ ….

Five  
Four  
Three  
Two  
One

Lightning ricocheted around the chamber. The burst of energy focused on the mother box, at the precise moment it touched the fluid. The change engine--- The Mother Box… pixelated, reformed and expanded and fell into the pool. It crackled and shook the entire structure as power coursed through the body within. A power enough to transform planets…

 _What if you were stronger than a planet_ ….

_If there is a one percent chance that he is our enemy, we have to take it as absolute certainty. And we have to destroy him._

_Bruce, he is not our enemy_

_What if I’m wrong…._

_The one percent chance…. What if I’m not…_

_What if I’m wrong…._

The fluid swirled, from its pale amber hue it became clear…bright --- gathering, gathering into a towering vortex, taking Clark, taking Superman, within its powerful arms as it shot through the spaceship with a force that tore a hole through the ship. And Clark was there in the midst of this power.

 

III.

ALIVE.

Bruce’s plan worked. Clark was alive. He stood still at first staring at them, a hand slowly strayed across his chest, even as he looked down. Bruce could see the remembrance of a memory flash in his face, he could see his fingers dig into his skin as if testing the reality of it. At that moment Bruce felt wretched and small.

Superman, looked up at all of them. His eyes flicked over them, scanning each one of them. He spent a long moment on Cyborg before he settled his gaze on Arthur.

Underneath a calm and watchful demeanor, Diana’s blood was singing. She did not want a fight, but she is an Amazon soldier first and foremost. Kal was alive. Yet Kal watched them not soul-less perhaps even more disturbing he looked confused, lost and dangerous. A dangerous, god like being ready to burn down the world at the slightest provocation. Perhaps, all her misgivings had come to bear. From a distant memory, Diana recalled a poem of Ancient Greece, when the Earth was not yet old, and men were more than men.

The neck thick as a bull’s,  
And iron shoulders like Atlas’  
The eyes, fierce as a lion’s,

Of that Milesian giant—  
Not even Olympian Zeus  
Looked on him without Trembling  
When Nicophon beat all comers  
In the boxing at the Olympics

It was a silly poem to remember now, Diana thought. But even with his gifts, Nicophon was still mortal, Kal wasn’t and Diana was not Zeus and she will never tremble not for any god or any man nor things not of this world. She knew Kal was a good man. A good man like Steve. Steve who died, so she could save others. Diana wanted to give him that chance.

“He doesn’t look right,” Arthur interrupted her thoughts, the tension in his voice, unmistakable. Clark’s eyes held his searching, perhaps remembering. Arthur saw something flicker in those eyes of vivid blue, a memory. It wasn’t totally hopeless, Arthur thought. Maybe if he spoke to him it would help, he took a slow step forward.

“Kansas–” he started to say.

Clark frowned, a word came out, slow and raspy,“Orin?”

Clark’s eyes suddenly broke away from Arthur, sensing the presence of someone else. Diana could see him looking at where Bruce was standing, could see the slight frown on his face–- another memory woken up, emotions stirred, like the restless winds before a storm. Bruce’s plan might end before it could even start.

"Arthur, your adrenaline is spiking…” Victor warned.

“Victor, I got this,” Arthur muttered under his breath as he advanced towards Clark.

“C’mon, Kansas, it’s me…”

Yet even as he spoke Victor’s servos had started whirring. Arthur stopped walking towards Clark, and turned to Victor. What the fuck. Diana gripped her shield tighter. Victor’s cybernetics borne of the mother box picked up the heightened adrenaline and beyond his control, reformed his arm into a canon.

 

FUCK… Arthur cursed under his breath.

Victor’s arm canon fired. Clark calmly leaned back to avoid its deadly trajectory, shattering the stone monument behind him. Diana saw Clark ball his fists as he stared at Victor, eyes narrowing. Diana felt the intense heat building in the air around them…

“Kal- El! No!”

The air crackled with lightning and the spiking fear of the mortals who watched them. The ground shook as the gods fought.

 

IV.

The steel chair smashed one of the instrument panels, two more inches it would have destroyed the mainframe of the cave. It was the first thing Arthur picked up as soon as he stopped pacing.

“Let’s try not to do that.” Bruce said.

“We just got our asses handed to us.”

Victor was manipulating a virtual model of the globe, midair. Barry was sitting on a monitor next to him. Both had steered clear away from the three of them. With Arthur’s outburst, they both stopped what they were doing. Barry shared a worried look with Victor.

Diana did not even look up at them. She has been quiet, contemplative. Every now and then the rhythmic sound of her fierce and obsessive sharpening of an already sharp sword joined the hum of the electronics. Diana was so unrelenting with the sharpening stone, more and more sparks were flying off the indestructible metal. Her silence was deliberate, words like ‘I told you so’ were beneath her. As far as she was concerned she had already said her piece to Bruce and the entire team.

“Arthur. This was a possibility,” Diana spoke finally.

“A possibility? Diana, we don’t even know who or what we brought back? Does he even know who he is?”

Diana sighed. “Kal- El might have lost the most important part of who he is. When I held him with the Lasso of Hestia, there was only anger, confusion, sadness… it is hard to say… Bruce, we might need to–”

“No, we do what we need to do and we give him time. He’s with Lois and his mother. He loves them, trusts them more than anyone else in this world. That has to count for something.”

“And you know this, because? Oh! I forgot you two are such best friends. You fought together, and he _died_ ,” Arthur said sarcastically. Those strange colored eyes were pinned on Bruce, challenging him, “I don’t need a magic rope to let me know you’re not telling us everything.”

“Arthur, we need to focus on a plan, Steppenwolf has all three Mother boxes,” Diana placated while sheathed her sword on her scabbard.

“Alright, then first on the plan– tell us what happened between you two. You said he died fighting that monster. It’s more than that. I heard what he said Bruce, ‘You won’t let me live, you won’t let me die.’ Now, tell me, why would he say something like that, Batman.”

Bruce saw Diana’s arm brush the lasso on her side, slightly. Whether it was purposeful or not he couldn’t tell. She stood up and leaned against a far wall, arms across her chest and watched them.

Bruce’s expression remained stolid, unreadable. He met Arthur’s unflinching stare.

“If you don’t want to say anything, then don’t,” Arthur growled. “Good luck with stopping the apocalypse.” He turned and stomped across the metal floor heading towards the elevator.

“I wanted to kill him.Tried to kill him. I was convinced that was the right course of action after what happened in Metropolis, after the world almost ended.” Bruce’s admission hung on the air like a thick fog.

Arthur turned sharply, “You tried to kill him? Why am I not surprised? How’s that working out for you? This, is all your fault!”

“Yes. And Luthor’s and Clark’s. The consequences of all our decisions and actions. Don’t lecture me. I was there when all those people died that day. I had to do something to stop that from happening again. You have no right to talk to me like you gave a shit. I did not spend my time running away, hiding in the middle of nowhere!”

“You don’t know me. You don’t have a fucking idea!” Arthur bolted across the room, fists balled at Bruce.

In the same moment, the perimeter alarm for the hangar activated. In a beat, the argument was forgotten. Bruce threw smoke bomb pellets across the room and launched a line to the roof. Arthur sensing a form through the smoke lunged at it with his Trident. Behind him, everyone scattered in battle positions.

Before Arthur could hit anything, a concussive wave knocked everyone off their feet. The same wave generated a powerful gust that cleared the thick haze from Bruce’s smoke grenades.

“Wait!” He could hear them arguing all the way from Kanas. It wasn’t hard to find them, it wasn’t hard to zero in on the only group of people who could be arguing about him at this time.

It was him. Clark in his Superman suit, flanked by the flare of the overhead lights, his cape rippling majestically. Slowly he floated to where they were, landing light as a feather. He stood there for a moment far from them to give them a chance to actually see it was really him. He could see their suspicion. Hear their blood pumping through their body faster, ready to fight once again. He heard Arthur’s anger and Bruce’s admission. He did not know what to do with that, not yet.

It wasn’t exactly how he wanted to get their attention, but it would have to do for now. He could think clearly, yet his head was still buzzing from the energy discharge of the Mother Box and he could still feel that powerful force coursing through him. It was taking a little more willpower to keep everything under control. The concussive wave he generated when he clapped his hands together, came out too strong much to his discomfiture. He was still sorting everything out in his head but he knew they were running out of time. All of this contributed to a lack of finesse on his part. On a different day, he could have handled this better.

_They will join you in the sun … maybe not today. But I’ll give it an honest to goodness try._

“It’s me,” Clark said softly. “I didn’t mean to scare everyone. I’m sorry.”

Everyone stared at him at first. Barry looked at the rest of the group and decided to just speed up to Clark. He took his hand and started shaking it rapidly, up and down several times, “Oh! Ok cool! You’re not gonna just laser us… with your eyes… good… I mean my reaction time is really fast but yeah please don’t kill us….

Clark slowly detached his hand from Barry, if he wasn’t invulnerable he would have broken his hand in five different places, “No, I wasn’t planning on doing that.”

“Cool, cool…I wasn’t even there when all that other stuff happened... Anywayyyy this was all Bruce’s idea— Hi! I’m Barry–- YOU are very fast. How fast are you…that’s Victor over there, I call him Cyborg, we both dug you up… like in normal speed, because it would’ve been disrespectful– And Arthur carried you…he was really, really gentle– you’ve met everyone else…Diana and Arthur didn’t like Bruce’s idea–”

“Barry, just shut up,” Victor interjected. He was still in alert mode. Clark could see his cybernetics scanning him. The arm cannon was nowhere to be seen, Clark took it as a good sign.

“That’s rude… well …ok …fine.” Barry stepped back too quickly, backing into Arthur, who grunted then bodily lifted him and plopped him on a nearby chair.

“Stay,” Arthur warned, before turning his attention back to Clark.

A relaxed smile lit Clark’s face, he could already tell he was going to like Barry. “Clark Kent. Again, sorry about earlier. I wasn’t really sure what was going on. It was all very confusing.”

“So, are you okay now, Kansas?” Arthur was still wary.

“Never better.” Well, for the most part anyway, he thought.

Arthur gave him a slight nod, a smirk played on his lips, “I love the suit.”

The way Arthur said it, made Clark feel suddenly self-conscious. “You’re blushing. Wow! It’s really you!” He bounded towards Clark and gave him the most bone crushing hug. Clark hugged him back just as hard, Arthur’s enthusiasm was infectious.

“How’s Thing One and Two?” Clark asked as soon as he let him go.

“They’re great. They ask about you… and ummm… I gave them new names.” Arthur was grinning. “Dorothy and Toto.”

Clark shook his head, although he was laughing already, “You shouldn’t have. I mean I like it. Thank you.”

Arthur shrugged, “It was just something to remember–”

“Wait, he’s Kansas and you have whales named Dorothy and Toto– OW!” Cyborg sent a small electrical charge through Barry’s elbow.

“God! Dude! What the hell!” Barry rubbed his elbow as he glared at Victor, who was just grinning.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to monopolize you, here’s the rest of us,” Arthur peeled himself away from Clark, he extended a hand to the person behind him.

Victor clasped Clark’s hand. "While we’re apologizing to each other. I just want you to know, my weaponry, well actually my everything is still unpredictable, everyday there’s always something new, when I can’t even figure out the stuff that came before yesterday,” Cyborg’s voice fluctuated between human and robotic. The globe rotated several times as he spoke, multiple red spikes started glowing.

“The same tech that brought me back.” Clark suddenly looked thoughtful, “You know when my heat vision kicked in I almost burned the house, the barn and my parents. It was hard, it’s still hard.”

“We should talk later.”

“Anytime. Now, show me what you have on this guy.”

\-------------------

When Diana told him that she was 5,000 years old, Clark thought that she was kidding. “Kal–El. It’s good to finally meet you. At least now, we’re not trying to kill something or kill one another.” Then Clark figured when you’re that old you pretty much develop your own brand of humor anyway.

He felt flustered at first then became horrified at the thought that they actually tried to kill each other, “You’re really strong! I’m sorry for all of that and thank you!”

Diana gave him another understanding smile then grasped his arm, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m not really sure how I’m supposed to feel but I don’t think I feel any different from before.”

Clark felt Diana’s eyes assess him. Inadvertently, his gaze was drawn to the rope by her waist. It was dull, light brown it didn’t look special aside from the fact that every now and then it shimmered with a faint gold light. Clark remembered its pull, the force that compelled and dug into his very soul, he wondered if Diana wanted to use that on him right now, he wasn’t sure if he’d like that. He felt his jaw tighten, he was hoping Diana won’t force the issue.

Diana must’ve have sensed his unease, “Because of all my years, I am not a stranger to death and those who come back from it. Kal, I know you are a good man. What happened to you was powerful and it will change you in certain ways. I trust that you know who you are but if you need it, I can help you with the clarity you seek. The Lasso of Hestia doesn’t just restrain and compel, it will also help you reveal the truth within you.”

He studied her for a while, he realized Diana was not only offering her own valuable insight but in her own way was also offering her guidance and friendship.

“Thank you. That’s means a lot coming from you.”

\---------------  
Ever since Clark came to the hangar all Bruce did was give him a curt nod. He just stood at the computer monitors glaring at the various data-points from their previous encounters with Steppenwolf. Barry and Victor compared notes on their theories on Steppenwolf and the Mother Boxes which led to some bickering about quantum entanglement. Victor was convinced that if he had one of the Mother Boxes he could use it to program his own wormhole to send Steppenwolf back to where he came from. In fact, Victor was really convinced they should try to keep one of the mother boxes for their own. After listening to Barry and Victor, Bruce gravely stated they needed something more to go on than just theoretical physics then promptly disappeared into the belly of the Flying Fox.

Arthur saw that Bruce was not hovering over the computer banks anymore, he strode over to one of the screens. It displayed images taken from the TERRA satellite from one of its aerial sensors. And that was just from one satellite, then there were the military and private ones owned by LexCorp and Wayne. Ever since the military and Bruce tracked him, Arthur had been curious as to how much information the government had of him and possibly Atlantis. It never worried him before for Atlantis was well hidden but nowadays it was getting harder to stay off the grid, definitely proven by the fact that they found him- underwater nevertheless. It was only a matter of time before Atlantis’ secret will be revealed to the world. If they win this battle maybe there was something to be had about being in this team despite his reservations, he himself would be privy to this kind of information and protect his Mother’s people. His peripheral vision caught the flash of a red nearby, as far as reasons went for staying with the team, there was another perfectly good one standing across the room from him.

Arthur made his way over to where Clark stood in one corner of the hangar. He could tell the Kryptonian’s focus was somewhere else, he looked like he was in a trance. He didn’t give any sign that he even noticed Arthur. Probably watching and listening with those senses of his. The Atlantean stood next to him then started shifting his Trident from one hand to the other, clearly restless.

“What is it?” Clark asked, his attention finally diverted much to Arthur’s relief.

"Everything ok?"

“I dunno, you tell me. I have this hankering for a rare steak, still warm, dripping with blood.” Clark deadpanned.

“Funny, Kansas. I guess everyone’s been asking, huh?”

“Yeah, several times. I mean I understand. I feel the same yet different. Diana said she can help with that.”

Arthur took his hand and stroked it gently. Clark looked down where his thumb caressed his knuckles and for a moment Arthur wondered if he was going to let go, but he didn’t. “Whatever you need, I’m here for you too, please believe that.”

“I do. I believe it. Thank you.” Clark grasped his hand tight and held it. Tight. For Arthur, the ground felt like it was charged with the same energy that brought Clark back, it was dizzying and disorienting. Arthur looked down on his feet, then shifted his gaze up to their intertwined hands, he looked up and found Clark’s eyes on him, its blue intensity unwavering.

There are times when you just needed to say things, because you’ll never know when you’ll get a chance. And with Clark, somehow Arthur felt he lost a lot of chances already. He cleared his throat, feeling monumentally awkward but he needed to push through, “I just want to say, I’m sorry.” He whispered. “God, I am so sorry,” Arthur swallowed when his voice hitched. “I wanted to come to Metropolis then I became too wrapped up in what was going on in Atlantis, I couldn’t go there when all that stuff happened. Then I heard you died and a part of me just was just so angry because I didn’t do anything to prevent that… I am so sorry–”

“Shhh… Shhh...don’t do that,” Clark said as he pulled Arthur into a tight embrace, as he leaned his forehead against Arthur’s, his hand stroking his side, “It was my fight, if you were there and something happened to you ...because of me…” Slowly, he released Arthur, but didn’t let go of his hand. “What I mean is that the Kryptonians came because I’m here. A lot of people got hurt…died… Luthor and Doomsday…happened,” Clark looked away, stricken. Arthur squeezed his hand again, it was a heavy burden to bear, something he had become familiar with. He himself thought that finding his own people would give him a certain peace but it didn’t, lately he’s wished that he still lived in a state of blissful ignorance.

“When Bruce wanted to bring you back…,” Arthur said in a low voice. “I was against it, I was just so afraid I’ll let you down again. But honestly Kansas, I’m glad that Bruce is such a stubborn asshole… cause now you’re here… it’s a great thing…you kick ass.”

The Kryptonian chuckled, Arthur just had this way of putting him at ease, “Are you really just going to call me Kansas?”

Arthur just laughed. “Well, maybe when all this blows over I could visit you in Kansas… Kansas.”

“I’d love that. My Mom would get a kick out of you.”

\-------------

Across the room, Victor nudged Barry, “You see this.”

Barry nodded, “Twenty on Bat Dad.”

Victor scoffed, “Have you _seen_ Little Mermaid? Make it fifty and it’s a deal.” Victor said.

“Hmmm… a little steep. K, it’s on,” Barry snickered as he fist-bumped Victor.

\----------------

V.

Bruce crawled under the instrument panel then attached the electrodes to the circuitry. Cyborg could probably fix this in a millisecond but at this point Bruce would rather combine advanced tech with good old elbow grease plus there was the small matter of Cyborg’s tech coming from the same planet as the enemy’s. The readings on the small screen of his portable scanner indicated that the electrodes had successfully connected. The diagnostics had indicated a low output area, it could potentially slow down the processing speed for the aft guns–

“So, this is where you’ve been hiding,” the voice came from a pair of red boots that stopped by his shoulders. Red boots that hugged perfectly muscled calves, Bruce scolded himself for noticing it, but then how was he supposed to not notice that.

“Things needed to be done while you’re out there singing “Kumbaya” with your new friends,” Bruce said abruptly, his tone giving every indication he’d rather not continue this conversation. It really wasn’t about being petty, but he couldn’t help it. He saw them talking very intimately via the surveillance cam, clearly there was history between them.  Sliding slightly under the panel, he moved the electrodes to the next set of circuits. He angled his head to see the red boots take a step for a bit then lift off from the floor. A sigh escaped his lips as he turned his attention back to the panel above his face, a little surprised at his own disappointment that Clark was leaving, it was better anyway they were taking off in less than thirty minutes and he just had to finish this.

There was a quick shift in the air, then suddenly Clark’s voice was right next to his ear, ““Kumbaya. You, are seriously dating yourself. And besides they’re your new friends, too.” Clark chuckled. He did not leave, he was right next to Bruce laying on his back next to him under the belly of the weapons systems of the Flying Fox. His disappointment fritzed away replaced by something else that Bruce quickly clamped down, it was getting warm in this narrow space.

They were quiet for a minute as Bruce tinkered at the panel. “Bruce, I just want to thank you. Bringing me back… it was your idea, it was very dangerous what you all did. You risked so much,” Clark said softly.

Bruce focused on a single wire right next to his forefinger, he knew if he just turned his head he will stare into Clark’s face, into those eyes that were too blue and unapologetically kind. “The team needed you. We needed our own alien to fight their alien,” His voice remained neutral, although there was a twinge of pain starting his shoulder, reminding him of what happened earlier, when Clark dropped him on the ground like a bag of potatoes. Slowly, he lowered his arm, his eyes not leaving the diagnostic screen on the scanner. He swore under his breath; the read outs were not promising. He needed to check another panel, the one directly in front of Clark’s face.

Clark scoffed, “Too late. You can’t deny you missed me… here, let me help you.”

“You have no idea, what I’m doing.”

Clark smirked and before Bruce could do anything, Clark shifted closer to Bruce. His shoulder gently pressing against his. Clark was unbelievably warm, which Bruce admitted was soothing the pain on his shoulder. It was definitely distracting, but it felt nice. Maybe he could do with a little bit of nice right now and not be juvenile about things. They were about to go into a potentially world ending battle which, according to Diana; could turn Earth into the primordial hellscape of Steppenwolf’s world. Trust Diana to drive a point home. But Clark was here, his plan worked, the one percent chance of success. Isn’t that what he wanted?

“I just don’t punch things into space, Bruce,” Clark said in that deep, amused voice of his.

He watched Clark’s hands as he moved the electrodes from the circuit he was working on and attached them to the mother board over Bruce’s head, it gave a series of approving beeps. Clark frowned, focusing. A small wisp of smoke appeared, as Clark welded circuitry with his heat vision. A series of numbers began appearing on the portable scanner all within perfect range. Bruce huffed. Seriously, he felt very betrayed by his own tech at that very moment. If Alfred hears about this he would never let him live it down.

“Not bad for a dead guy, right?”

Maybe it was the possibility of an apocalyptic ending, maybe because it was Clark, Bruce turned his head, his face inches away from Clark’s. He could feel his own warm breath mixing with Clark’s own, as easily as he could feel those perfect red lips on his…

It was easy enough, all he had to do was roll his now-not-so- painful shoulder into Clark’s side and just lean. Even better was the fact that Clark was just still and he could feel Clark staring at his lips. They were so close he could inhale the clean air scent of him.

“Everything ok?” Clark said lightly.

Bruce blinked, bringing him back to the here and now of things; sweat had gathered on his brow, the spot of grease on his right cheek was really itchy; his tired bones and muscles, achingly sore. Clark looked at him expectantly.

 _Everything’s perfect, you, being here_ – Bruce started to think before he stopped himself. He had a myriad of questions in his head, a thousand things he wanted to say. Things that he wanted to do. Maybe he’ll do that later. Coward, Alfred would say followed with the most “Alfred” of eye rolls.

Well, he can’t really do everything in one day. A successful alien resurrection would be enough in most cases.

“Everything’s great. Let’s go fight a war.”

 

FIN

 

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

So this was really a continuing saga personally, just trying to figure out how to expand my idea. Tbh i think the movie should have been longer, so here's my fix it version with all the ships...haha.

I have one more WIP, then update Hold Me Fast and yeah my collaboration with Albi for the Superbat Reverse Bang (April) which hopefully would have more JL and of course SuperBat.

And yeah, this here is a series y'all.

Hope you guys like. Kudos and comments would be very much appreciated.Thank you.


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